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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073754">Dead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose'>owlmoose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Headcanon, Legion of the Dead, allusions to Aeducan/Alistair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:40:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The exiled Aeducan princess goes looking for the Grey Wardens, but finds a different group of warriors instead. An alternate outcome for the Aeducan origin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this some years ago, as a headcanon for what happened to my main canon Warden, Sereda Aeducan, in the universe where my Kasia Brosca became the Warden instead. It was only ever posted on Tumblr; I thought I'd reposted it here already, but apparently I had not.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness and battle, battle and darkness: the entire world had been reduced to this, fighting for the next step, the next tunnel, the next crossroads. Food gone, tinder gone, water all but gone – if she didn’t catch another deepstalker soon, she would be reduced to eating dead darkspawn for sustenance, and everyone knew what lay at the end of that road. Better to stop now and let death take her, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Surely she would find the Wardens soon. The hope of rescue had carried her this far. Just a little longer. Just a little more. </p><p>One more tunnel, one more turn – did she hear voices? Or was it only more darkspawn gibbering? The empty canteen slipped out of her hand and clanged against the stone floor: no choice but to take the risk. She groped along the tunnels, following the sounds, and she stumbled into the camp amidst shouts of surprise and the scrape of metal as weapons were drawn. Even the dim campfire light hurt her eyes, and she threw up her hands as ward and surrender. Her foot caught a protrusion from the floor, and she stumbled, landing on her knees. “Mercy!” she cried. “Have mercy.”</p><p>“Hold up,” called a gruff dwarfish voice. Not the Wardens, then, and her heart sunk – had she gotten turned around, stumbled into a patrol that would surely complete her death sentence? When no final blow came, she lowered her hands and blinked, the shape resolving into a tattooed face: Legion of the Dead. “How did you get here?” the man asked</p><p>“Walked from Orzammar,” she said, coming to a quick decision as she got to her feet, forcing herself not to waver. “Looking for you.” She had meant to die with the Grey Wardens, but this would do just as well. </p><p>The leader raised his eyebrow. He was bald, grizzled, and his forehead bore the triangular tattoos of the Legion.  "You got all the way to Bownammar, alone?“ He nodded to her sword. "We could use someone like you, as long as you’ve accepted death.”</p><p>Her laugh was bitter. “They threw me in here to die, with nothing but a sword and the clothes on my back. Who am I to disappoint them?”</p><p>“Good enough.” He looked her up and down again, shook his head, muttered an oath below his breath. “And you are?”</p><p>“I am–” She paused, remembering. No, not anymore; she had been stripped of caste and clan, her name stricken from the memories. That woman no longer existed. Time to start letting her go. “I was–” Shaking her head, she cut herself off again. It didn’t matter; it would just be seen as an attempt to curry favor, or sympathy, and might, depending on old allegiances, even put a target on her back. She sighed and looked up again, meeting his eyes. “Call me Seri.”</p><p>“All right, Seri. My name is Kardol, and I welcome you to the Legion of the Dead. Now let’s get you some real food. If you’ve come as far as I think you have, I’m guessing you’re pretty tired of deepstalker.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Seri surprised herself by enjoying her new role in the Legion. She had worked hard to gain a military command, and though this was not the team she’d imagined leading, they were as skilled as any from the warrior caste, and braver than most. And getting to know people from other castes, other walks of life, even the casteless, was more satisfying than she’d thought possible. Protecting Orzammar had always been her goal; being in the Legion allowed her to do that. She accepted her tattoos and her death, embraced her new brothers and sisters, and slowly let herself forget that she had ever been anyone else.</p><p>Some months later, Kardol’s patrol had made camp in the Dead Trenches, staring down a pack of darkspawn on the other side of a bridge. There had been talk of pushing the line forward into the City of the Dead, but without clear orders from the throne, Kardol didn’t care to risk it. (The throne… that was a sore subject, one Seri preferred to consider as little as possible. Better to be just another soldier, not caring about politics unless it got in the way of the Legion’s duty.) They were in a stalemate, not doing much more than throwing back the occasional sortie, when a party of strangers burst in out of nowhere: two dwarves, two humans, and… was that a golem? Where had they found a working golem? Seri gaped for a moment, then fell back with the rest of the Legion, not having to do much more than watch as the newcomers took the hurlocks and genlocks down. </p><p>After a moment, she realized that she recognized one of the dwarves: Oghren, the Paragon Branka’s husband. So, he had finally found someone desperate or crazy enough to sign on to the search for her. The other dwarf seemed to be the party’s leader, and after clearing the darkspawn about halfway down the bridge, she returned to speak to Kardol. She was young, Seri noticed, and bore a brand. He nodded to her, politely. “Atrast vala, Grey Warden,” he said.</p><p>Grey Wardens?! This brand was– Seri checked herself with a deep breath; she had worked hard to break this life-long habit of thinking of the casteless as lesser. If the human leader Duncan had chosen her for the Wardens, she must have been worthy. And perhaps this was why Seri had been unable to find the Wardens in the Deep Roads, that first desperate day. Duncan had found what he was looking for in this woman and left by the front door. </p><p>Though she stood back, Seri could not help but listen in on the conversation. The Grey Wardens – there were two, this female dwarf and the human male – were indeed looking for Branka, something to do with the succession, and Seri couldn’t resist a silent snort at that news. Only her idiot brother could have dreamed up a plan like this. But it seemed the Wardens needed his support, and Seri couldn’t blame them for taking any allies they could get, if a Blight really was coming. </p><p>The conversation drew to a close, and the Wardens took their leave; Kardol called the Legion soldiers back together, but Seri could not help but watch for a moment longer. Something drew her gaze to the male human – he was tall, even for one of his race, and he wore a winged helm that left his face visible. There was something oddly familiar about him, but as soon as the thought came, Seri dismissed it. She had met very few humans before Duncan’s visit, just a few ambassadors and, once, Ferelden’s young king, Cailan, shortly after he was crowned. The likelihood of a connection between any of those men and the Grey Warden was vanishingly small. Still, she could not take her eyes from him. He tilted his head toward the other human – an older woman, a mage by the look of her – and then laughed at something she’d said, the sound echoing across the chasm. Seri followed first him, then the dwarf Warden, watching her lead the group into another charge, and she felt a tugging at her heart. In another time, another life, maybe that would have been her destiny. Strange to see another path, unfolding before her eyes.</p><p>She turned away, ignoring the voice of jealousy that whispered in her ears. Trying to convince the surfacers to band together against a darkspawn threat was likely an impossible task, one that she would wish on nobody, much less herself. The Legion was her life now, and her death, and she would meet both with her head held high.</p>
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